


Evenfall

by Fictionbookworm



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Action, Adventure, Gen, Horror, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23107003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionbookworm/pseuds/Fictionbookworm
Summary: Life as a vampire is not a romance right out of a fairy tale as some might like to believe. It is actually rather dull once you get past all the blood and gore and the pain. At least, that is what Claude Bernadotte had decided soon after his transformation way back during the 16th century.
Kudos: 4





	1. Death

It was the cold. That’s what he remembers the clearest from _Before_. The way it sunk into his body, deep into his bones, until it was the only thing he could feel. 

And how slowly, agonizingly slowly, his uncontrollable shivering stopped, his muscles became stiff and wooden, and his thoughts fuzzy and unclear. While the entire time, his blood trickled into the snow around him, splashes of crimson vivid against the white. 

Then, the burning had begun, chasing away the chill. 

It had been as if the fires of Hell itself were devouring him alive. There had been nothing but agony, ripping him apart from the inside, only to rebuild him back again, and shatter him anew. 

He thinks he screamed. He must have, but there had been no one to hear him anyway, so deep into the forest, far from the closest village, in what he suspected was the biggest snowstorm in the last sixty years at the very least. 

It could have lasted seconds, minutes, days, weeks, years. 

He knew not. He cared not. There had been only pain and fire, consuming his every thought until he wished he was dead.

But eventually, the fire had started receding. 

First from his fingertips, and toes, and then the rest of him. Still just as slowly, so agonizingly slowly, much like the cold had been.

And his throat...his throat! He had never felt so parched in his life. It had been as dry as the well had been during that one summer in his childhood when the rain would not come, despite their ardent prayers. They had thought God had abandoned them. Decided to punish them for their sins. 

His heart too. Regardless of the already frantic pace of his heartbeat that had echoed in his ears, it only got quicker. 

Faster and faster and faster, it had beat until it stopped.

Too never start again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	2. Awakening

He opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the light.

Everything was so clear. Sharp and defined like never before. 

Sometimes while he burned, the blizzard had ended, leaving the world covered in a dazzling rainbow of colors under the rays of the sun. It glistened and sparkled like a priceless gem belonging to an Empress.

He stood, faster than intended, rising from the snow that had covered him while he lay in a shower of beautiful shimmer, turning in a circle in awe, inhaling deeply the smell of freshly fallen snow and the scent of the forest.

He listened to the sound of life surrounding him from all directions, the squirrel jumping from branch to branch, the woodpecker drumming into a tree with his beak, two ferrets playing in the snow. 

For a single, long, glorious moment, he thought he was in Heaven, that he had died and been allowed to join the Saints and the Angels at the feet of God himself. 

And then the burning returned, that accursed dry, scorching ache in his throat.

His hands flew up to clutch at it, the skin feeling strange beneath his fingers, both too smooth and too soft, but somehow still hard as stone.

He feels the first thrills of growing panic because this wasn't right. It couldn't be right. Surely Heaven shouldn't have pain?

Was this nothing but an illusion created by the Devil after all? This enchanting beauty, unlike anything he had seen or imagined before? Were the Gates to the Kingdom of God closed to him forever, leaving him to be tormented with visions of something he would never have deep within the pits of Hell?

His voice raises in keening protest, sounding unnatural and wrong.

What unforgivable sin did he commit to deserve such a fate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	3. First Hunt

The wind shifts directions, blowing harder, and bringing with it not only a new note into the symphony of the forest but a fresh scent.

He forgets everything he was thinking of before. The panic melts away as if it had never been there only seconds before, leaving behind only the thirst burning his already scorching throat, the sound and the smell.

His muscles moved as they had never moved before, and didn't get tired no matter how long he ran, while his breath came effortlessly as if he had no need for air. He'd always been strong, having spent his days working in the fields or hunting in the woods. But this...no human would have been able to replicate it.

He moved through the trees, at speeds previously incomprehensible to him, the likes of which only demons or angels could have ever reached, and his strength seemed to grow with every leap and bound, his feet touching the ground so seldom, it felt as if he was flying.

And while he ran, he could focus on only one thing.

It was the powerful thudding of a heart, sending great rivers of blood flowing through a body.

And its smell...the fragrance of that blood was so enchanting, that in a single instance, it ruled over his mind entirely. He cared for nothing but to taste it, to have it flow down his throat, and soothe that unbearable thirst of his. 

Pushing off a tree trunk, he sails through the air into a clearing, and unto the back of his prey.

He couldn't even call it a fight.

Restraining the man underneath him takes mere seconds, his teeth tearing into the soft neck with reckless abandon.

He drinks until there was nothing left, the other man drained of every last drop, the blood hot, wet and thick, tasting like the ambrosia of the gods of old. The warmth of it radiated throughout his entire body, heating everything in its path.

He's done before he is satisfied, the burning only barely eased, hardly muted, and still present, unforgettable. 

He wanted more.

Where could he find more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	4. Homecoming

He follows his nose all the way back to his home, having gotten lost in his frantic chase through the forest. The smell, that tantalizing, astonishing smell helps him guide him to the closest and densest concentration of humans. 

The hunger was still there, but more controllable once he takes down several deer. It's never been so easy to hunt, his superior _everything_ allowing him to catch prey that would have once taken him days in just a matter of minutes. 

When he finally makes his way back, the family farm is silent, empty, and for a long moment, he stands in the doorway, feeling confused. Then, somewhere in the distance, a bell tolls. 

He would have never had heard it _Before_. The only large bell belonged to the village's Church, which was several hours away, and it only tolled for Mass or special occasions. 

Since the farm was empty, and he couldn't remember either set dates for any marriages, funerals, or Baptisms, he assumed they were all at Mass. Which meant he'd been on his hunting trip for more than a week. 

He curses under his breath, leaving the house, and makes his way to the village at the leisurely pace of a galloping horse. There was no need to hurry, so he took his time, observing the snow-covered fields, and the grazing herds on both sides of the dirt road, and marveled at his new senses. It was as if a dark veil he'd worn all his life had been ripped off, and for the very first time, he could truly see things as they should be.

All too soon, much too soon even, he is passing underneath the great gates surrounding their little town and entering the village center, just as the service ends. The people spill out from the church, talking and laughing, only to fall silent when they notice him. 

"Claude." A woman whispers in horror with her hands over her mouth. "What have you done?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	5. Anger

He blinks at the woman, startled by her reaction. "Whatever do you mean, mother?" 

She's staring at his clothes, he realizes and follows her gaze down.

Slowly, the euphoria he had felt since the moment he tasted that first drop of blood melts away, leaving only horror and fear. 

His clothes were ripped as if several wild animals had attacked him and nearly torn him to pieces. And the blood! It so thoroughly covered him from head to toe, he could hardly see the original colors under all that red. 

Some of it was his, but the rest...the rest was that young hunter's.

Guillaume! His name was Guillaume, and he was barely fifteen. Only a week ago, he had begged him to teach him some traps for the next hunt. And he had been planning to propose to his childhood sweetheart as soon as he felled a deer. Which he was never going to do.

Because he killed him with his own two hands. He had bitten into his throat with his teeth and drained him of every last droplet of blood. 

"Demon." Someone murmurs in the crowd, but he hears it loud and clear.

His head snaps back up, and he narrows his eyes at the speaker, sudden anger overtaking the horror. "I'm not." He snarls. 

"Look at his eyes!" Another exclaims. "That's not the work of God, I say!" 

The crowd shifts, muttering their agreement. 

"I'm not," He repeats a little more pleadingly this time. "I'm not a demon! I swear it!" He casts a desperate glance around, but no one seems to be listening to his words. 

Father Pierre approaches, holding a silver cross high above his head to the crowd’s loud approval. "Begone, demon! We have no need for your kind here!"

He falls to his knees in supplication. "Father, please! Bring me holy water, I’ll prove it to you I am no demon!" 

"Begone! In the name of Jesus Christ!" 

The final straw is when he notices Collette pulling their children protectively behind her. Away from him, from their father! As if he would ever hurt them! 

His lips curls back, baring his teeth, and he growls. 

So, they think him a demon, do they? Then he'll show them one. 

It was perfect! He was just getting hungry again, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	6. Realization

When he eventually comes to, he's holding the body of Élise, limp and still warm. He immediately drops it, backing away in terror, only to stumble on another body, this one of little six-year-old Jeanne.

Her head had been torn off and was lying a little farther away from the rest of her.

Something sweet pools in his mouth as he takes in the scene around him. There were corpses everywhere, some horrifically maimed, others looking fine if one ignored the crushed and broken bones.

He distantly realizes he was feeling incredibly full, like after a lavish Christmas party. Like after killing Guillaume.

His mother was lying over there, pulled to pieces, and that was his uncle over there, head turned backward. The boy from next door under the fountain and the Father on the steps of the Church...

Unable to handle what he had done, he turns and runs. He runs far into the woods to a cave no one knew about. It was his secret place, where he went when he wanted some time alone.

There would be no one there, no humans he could kill. No one he could suck dry of blood.

He drops on his knees on the hard, cold ground, raises his clasped hand to the sky and prays as he had never prayed before. To God, to Jesus Christ, to Mary, to every Angel, and to every Saint, he prayed to everyone he could think of.

"My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. In His Name, my God, have mercy. Amen."

He was a sinner and a murderer. A demon.

"O Mary Immaculate, Virgin so fair, Mother of our Savior, please hear my prayer. Intercede, Dearest Mother to your Heavenly Son. Tell him I am truly sorry for all the wrongs I have done. Ask Him to guide me by the Gifts of the Holy Spirit in all my deeds and way, so that I way give Him glory, at the end of my days. Amen."

He really was a demon, now.

_He was a demon. He was a demon. He was a demon._

_DEMON!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	7. Newborn Years

He stays away from civilization after that, feeding on animals, hunters from the neighboring villages, and the occasional travelers.

Once, he tries an apple. Never makes that mistake again.

He discovers his skin now glittered in the sunlight like a gemstone and started coming out from his cave only in the evenings and at night. It was unnatural, it wasn't right, and it disturbed him every time he saw it.

It reminded him he was no longer human.

He stops praying eventually.

Winter ends, then summer comes and goes, and winter returns again, and rumors spread of a demon who lived in the forest and killed any who wandered in.

He tries not to touch the children. And with time, as his newfound strength unexpectedly somewhat waned, but his control over his bloodlust grew, he starts leading them back to their homes if they were lost. They call him an angel, and he doesn't understand why.

How could they mistake him for an angel? Haven't the people of his village recognized him as a demon by just looking into his eyes?

At least, he'd changed clothes, having returned to the farm several weeks after the massacre he caused, and left with some things he either required or simply couldn't bear to part with.

He promised himself it was the last time he returned.

Even set fire to it to ensure he kept the promise. 

If he'd been able to, he would have been crying. But he couldn’t, because he no longer had the ability to do so.

It was just another reminder of his lost humanity. Sometimes, he wondered if he even had a soul anymore. He rather doubted that.

Eventually, he has to leave, having drawn to much attention with his hunting. There was just too many people disappearing with no explanation.

So, he wanders. For years, and years.

Even starts going into small villages again during the day in overcast weather, and lures women with sweet promises into his arms and to their death.

He'd always had easy luck with women, but now he barely had to put any effort in. They were the ones to come to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	8. First Meeting

He had wandered into yet another hamlet when the man had stepped out from behind a house. Even in the light of a flickering lantern, he looked otherworldly beautiful, if slightly strange-looking. 

He had flawless pale skin similar to his own, a short beard and long, blond hair shaved at the sides with the rest gathered into a bun like a woman. He was tall, and muscular, and held himself like a warrior. But perhaps the most startling of his features were his eyes. Deep red like blood.

"Are you a demon too?" He asks, strangely hopeful. 

The man pauses in his approach. "A demon? I hope you're japing, boy." He replies, his voice just as ethereal as the rest of him thought his words carried traces of a strange accent. 

He's disappointed but doesn't show it, peering at the other man curiously, instead. "If you’re not a demon, then what are you? You're certainly not a human."

"Þórrhave mercy, how young are you? Where's your creator?"

"Creator?" He repeats inquiringly, choosing not to comment on the insult about his age. He’d realized he wasn’t aging a while ago, but he didn’t look that young either.

The man waves a hand, gesturing a bit wildly. "The one who turned you? Who was supposed to teach you all this shit? Or do they also call themselves demons?"

"I don't have one." 

"What do you mean you don't have one?! You're obviously not a newborn!" The man sounded so miffed he even raised his voice. "How long ago have you been changed?" 

He tilts his head, thinking. "About eleven winters, give or take a few? I was twenty-four." 

"A baby. A fucking baby." The man mutters to himself before addressing him again. "And you've been alone ever since?" 

"Yes." He affirms, now thoroughly entertained with the man's reactions, but getting more confused with every question. 

"Shiite." The other drawls out, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. "You've got no idea how lucky you are, boy." 

"Am I?" He asks dubiously. 

"You are." The man insists and sighs. "I'm Thorsten Bergström."

"Claude Bernadotte. It's a pleasure." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	9. About Vampires

Sitting in the corner of an inn with mugs of ale they weren’t drinking, Thorsten starts teaching.

“Vampires. That’s what we call ourselves.” He says. “We are a race of immortal, blood-drinking monsters. No one knows who were the first, or how they were created. The oldest I’ve heard off remembers Babylon, though I do not know if that’s true. There are also a few from Rome when it was at the peak of its glory, and one who claims to have been there when the first stone of the Ten-Thousand-Mile-Long Wall of China was laid down.”

“We are unable to sleep and anything but the blood of humans tastes repulsive. Without it we become weaker, and no better than feral beasts. Sometimes, we encounter _singers_ , humans who’s blood we find even more irresistible than normal. Our skin is pale like marble regardless of ethnicity, harder than granite, and sparkles in the sunlight like diamonds, while our eyes are red like blood. Our every feature is enhanced during the change to be more appealing to our prey, from our extraordinary beauty to our voices and even our smell. We stay forever young, frozen in time like statues. We are living stone.”

“So, you’re saying not only I am not immortal, but I still look twenty-four and will continue to do so for all eternity?” He asks in disbelief.

Thorsten laughs, white teeth flashing. “Kid, you must have looked good when you were a human, because now not even a vampire female would be able to resist you.” 

He nods but stays unconvinced. Unfortunately, without a looking glass he was unable to confirm the truth in the man’s words. “I know we are strong, and fast and have enhanced senses, but is there anything else?”

“Well, there’s our venom. It’s what causes the change in the first place. If you don’t make certain your prey is dead, they will also turn after several days of excruciating pain.”

“And weaknesses? We must have some?”

Thorsten shrugs, tugging at his beard with one hand. “We’re stronger as newborns with much less self-control, during our first few years, though you must have noticed it declined with time.” He nods in agreement, having thought it strange when he had noticed it. “We also need to be dismembered, then have our remains burned before they can reconstruct themselves to truly die. Other than that, none.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


	10. Gifts

They sit in silence for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts, before Thorsten jerks his head up suddenly, startling him. “There is one more thing.” He exclaims. “Gifts. Some have gifts.”

He stares at him bemusedly, wondering where the other man was going with this.

“When as a human you had a particular intense ability or characteristic, it can occasionally become stronger after the change. They are rare, and always unique, though they can be similar. For example, one who had been sensitive to the emotions of others as a human could find himself able to manipulate them in other people when turned into a vampire. Or a good hunter could now find his prey anywhere it hides.”

“That’s…” He trails off feeling unsure. It was clear God would never grant such gifts to creatures such as them, which meant they were the work of the Devil. They were unholy, and should not be used. Yet, they had been also clearly abandoned by Him…

“They are not always fit for battle either.” Thorsten continues, unaware of the mental conflict he was waging inside himself. “I had an exceptionally sense of directions when I was human. Now, I have no need for maps, because I always know my exact position and all the ways I could reach my destination. Very useful for a seafarer such as myself.” He boasts.

He warily eyes him over his mug, before sighing. “I have one too.” He unenthusiastically admits.

“Yeah?”

He leans back on his chair to stare up at the ceiling, ignoring Thorsten’s curious gaze. “The people of my village used to say I had the voice of an angel. That I could charm even animals with my signing alone, let alone humans.” He reminiscence nostalgically.

“You think you can really do that now?” Thorsten asks quietly.

“I don’t think so.” He answers with a bitter-sweet smile. “I _know_ so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Twilight.


End file.
